


Duvet dreams.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's WHUMPTOBER 2018 [16]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bedridden, Gen, Hanamaki is the baby of his family, Influenza, It's dangerous to go alone take these headcanons, Pacific Rim References, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: More sick now than he can ever remember, Hanamaki is bedridden. The team coming to visit definitely makes him feel better though.





	Duvet dreams.

Hanamaki had awoken with a gargantuan groan, sweating and shivering at the same time, numb all over but aches in every joint. He can already tell just lying here that he’s not going to be able to get up.

“Rise and shine, fucker!” His bedroom door slams open, his eldest sister - Fumiko, 26 - bursts in like a militant on a mission. Hanamaki groans again, burying his face in his pillow. Fumiko freezes. She blinks three times.

“MOOOOM, Takahiro’s dying!” With his headache, Hanamaki feels her shout pounding against his skull and he rolls onto his side, folding the pillow over his ears. He scrunches his eyes closed, trying to will the pain away, but he’s just so _hot_ and uncomfortable and everything _hurts_. A hand brushes gently through his hair and he looks up to see his mother leaning over him.

“Oh, Taka…” She places the back of her hand against his forehead to check his temperature and frowns. Hanamaki tries to offer her a comforting smile, but it’s wobbly and unsure.

“You’re rather warm. Definitely a fever.” Hanamaki makes a small sound of confirmation. If his tongue didn’t feel swollen in his cotton-dry mouth, he could have _said_ that. His mother pulls her hand back, looking down at him sternly.

She is _not_ a woman to be messed with.

“You are going to rest, you’re going to recover, and if you _dare_ move from that bed asides from for necessities, I’ll forbid visitors.” Hanamaki nods. He knows full well that she’s not joking, considering that when Aki, his 25 year old sister broke the rules, she was under ‘house arrest’ for a full week to recover.

In the end, it’s all for their health and their mother loves them to hell and back (Where Hanamaki expects his sisters came from), so he’s not going to argue.

As his mother leaves, Fumiko snickers and walks into the room, flopping onto the bed at his feet.

“This is karma for beating my high score yesterday, you little shit~.”

“Fuck off, banshee.” 

“If you want screeching, I can always ask Aki to practice her violin in here~.” Just the thought alone has Hanamaki groans, pulling the pillow over his ears a little tighter. Fumiko laughs, but then softens as she takes pity on her baby brother.

“Don’t worry, we don’t want your _germs_. M’sure Yuima won’t mind, but urgh, I don’t wanna catch anything from _you_.” Hanamaki rolls his eyes. Typical Fumiko, typical siblings.

“Great. Can you fuck off now?” Fumiko laughs again - more of a witch’s cackle, which is suitable - and wanders out of the room calling for Aki. Probably so they can laugh at his suffering, but Hanamaki can’t bring himself to care.

Everything _hurts_ too much. 

He drifts in and out of a feverish sleep, occasionally dragging himself to the bathroom for obvious reasons, and taking medicine when his mother, or the youngest of his sisters, Yuima, 21, brings it to him. Other than that, it’s all a blur.

He manages to get a proper sleep around 4 in the afternoon, having exhausted himself by relentlessly tossing and turning. When he comes round, there are voices. Not his mother or three sisters, that’s for sure, but voices.

“- totally agree, but not if we count _Knifehead_.”

“Are you shitting me? Knifehead has nothing on Otachi!”

“I gotta go with Iwaizumi here, sorry Oikawa. Otachi is the bomb.com and you damn well know it.”

“That’s a _lie_ , Mattsun! Just because Otachi can fly, doesn’t make him more skilled than Knifehead! Like, uh, who took down Gypsy Danger?”

“Who took out most of _Hong Kong_ , dumbass?” Hanamaki’s huff of amusement goes unheard beneath Matsukawa’s snort and laugh. Of _course_ the dorks would be talking about Pacific Rim, of all things. ‘Alien’ Kaiju and Mecha, it’s the perfect topic for all four of them.

“Leatherhead… was best…” Three voices rise in protest as they turn to him, before Hanamaki winces at the echo in his head. God, that hurts…

Matsukawa shushes the other two gently, looking around the room as if checking something, and as Hanamaki laboriously moves to sit up, he almost bursts into tears. The _whole team_ is here, not just his best friends, although they’ve dozed off around the room.

Watari has stolen the beanbag in the corner, flopped over it on his belly with his arms and legs wrapped around it as if he’s guarding it, but he can’t cover it all, and Yahaba rests his head against one unguarded spot. 

Kyoutani sits a little further off, under the windowsill leaning up against the bookcase. He has an open book in his lap, and whilst Hanamaki’s vision is too blurry to see which one it is, he knows most of his books are in Irish Gaelic, presents from his father who lives and works abroad. 

Closest to the bed but furthest from everyone else, Kunimi and Kindaichi use each other as pillows, so tangled together that Hanamaki can’t tell who’s legs are who’s. They’re the babies of the team, and Hanamaki exhales with a soft smile as he leans over to gently brush Kunimi’s fringe out of his face.

“Guess you’ve been waiting a while, huh?” He twists back around to lay properly, Iwaizumi moving to help prop up the pillows, and Matsukawa dipping a cloth in a bowl of water on the side, a couple of slithers of ice still in it. 

Oikawa crosses his legs as he sits between Hanamaki’s feet.

“Only a few hours. Since you were too bedridden to come to practice, we came to you!”

“A few… Hours?” Tucking one last pillow behind Hanamaki’s back, Iwaizumi hums softly.

“It’s almost 11. S’why the kouhai are asleep, but we wanted to wait to check if you were okay.” Tears spring to Hanamaki’s eyes and he flops to lean against Iwaizumi, trapping him in place. Oikawa only giggles at his heartfelt expression, which turns to shock as Matsukawa slaps the cold, wet cloth against his forehead.

“And now we know, we’re fuckin’ exhausted, so we’re staying over.”

“I love you all so much.”

“... Where is Makki and what have you done with him?” Hanamaki rolls his eyes, knowing Oikawa is only teasing, otherwise he, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa wouldn’t be arranging themselves to share the bed. Iwaizumi doesn’t have a _choice_. Hanamaki has him well and truly trapped.

“I’m _feverish_ , let me be sappy for once.” Iwaizumi yawns, right in his ear, and then nestles down so he’s using Hanamaki’s head as pillow, tucking his chin in the strawberry-brown hair.

“We love you too, moron.” Matsukawa snorts, shuffling in so he’s spooning Hanamaki, and echoes the sentiment.

“Yeah, we love you, asshole.” 

“We love you, dumbass!” With great glee, Oikawa swivels around and flops backwards, using Hanamaki’s stomach as his pillow and legs like armrests. Hanamaki groans at the impact, but gets his own back by turning his knees inwards and digging them into Oikawa’s ribs. Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh.

“You can’t call other people dumbass, Dummykawa~.” Oikawa sticks his tongue out, only to find it pinched by Matsukawa, and he pulls a face of disgust. Matsukawa finally lets him go when he’s silent, turning to say something to Hanamaki, but notices he’s drifted off again.

Iwaizumi doesn’t look too far behind, an old man at heart who usually goes to bed early, and the peacefulness of the room sweeps over him. With a yawn, Matsukawa rests his head in Hanamaki’s collarbone and closes his eyes.

Oikawa smiles fondly as he watch them over his shoulder, pulling his laptop - which has been at the end of the bed all this time - onto his lap, and dimming it so he can watch the gameplay of the next team they’re practicing against. 

He keeps checking to see if everyone else is still asleep, and it’s only when it’s past 2 in the morning that he shuts his laptop down and settles to sleep himself. Hanamaki might be bedridden, having to suffer the day alone, but the team will always be here to keep him company through the afternoon and nights.

It’s not so bad being sick with a family like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos and comment!  
> Feedback keeps your local author alive!


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